


Directions and Bearings

by potted_planted



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy Friendship, James T. Kirk & Spock Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24374926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potted_planted/pseuds/potted_planted
Summary: Jim Kirk disappears after Nero.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Spock, James T. Kirk & Spock
Comments: 9
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

"In your medical opinion, is Cadet James T. Kirk fit to be questioned?"

"His injuries, while serious if left untreated, are not immediately life threatening. Given the gravity of the accusations it is my medical opinion that Cadet James T. Kirk is fit to be questioned provided that the cross-examination is limited to three hours."

The dispassionate voice of the Starfleet doctor whose name Jim Kirk could not be bothered to remember would have thrown him into a fit of rage at any other time. This time, Jim Kirk felt oddly numb.

While Enterprise was still limping back to Earth after its encounter with the Narada, a fast frigate had been sent to pick him up together with Lieutenant Commander Spock who, undoubtedly, was currently being subjected to a similar interrogation. 

And so it was that James T. Kirk, Cadet and former Acting Captain of the USS Enterprise, found himself facing a board of Admirals and being grilled in increasingly minute details on the encounter with Nemo, the destruction of Vulcan and the rescue of Captain Pike, not necessarily in that order. He managed to keep Spock Prime out of it but found that to become more and more difficult to do as time progressed. His back hurt from the gashes that the Hengrauggi had left there, his throat hurt from the abuse it had taken at the hands of Spock and Nero, and he had probably cracked a rib or two with his stunts on the drilling platform. The last time he had slept or eaten had been before coming aboard Enterprise. Sometimes, flashes of memories not his own captured his attention and he grew increasingly disoriented. 

A sudden hiss and a sharp pain at his throat made him flinch. The fog lifted somewhat from his thoughts. Admiarl Marcus' face came back into focus, with a scowl on it.

"Don't make me repeat myself again, Kirk"

And he tried, he really did. For a while, the stimulants helped, but he had not really been in a good shape to start with.

"What prompted you to look for Captain Pike then?"

The questions grew repetitive, and again, he felt his mind slipping. Admiral Marcus' face grew distorted, and for a short moment seemed to morph into Nero's. Maybe he was imagining being at Starfleet Headquarters while in reality he had never escaped Nero's ship and was being made to spill Starfleet's secrets. But he was only a cadet, so what could Nero possibly want with the information he could give? The food in the mess hall was awful, maybe the Romulans could use this knowledge for a peaceful invasion? 

Kirk started to chuckle, but then another hypo hit his abused throat and he groaned.

At least the faces were clear now, jeering Romulans asking questions. What was it again that he was supposed to do in these cases?

"Kirk, James Tiberius, Cadet, serial number af227755bd. Kirk..."

Admiral Marcus, with a look of disgust on his face, turned to the medical attendant who had administered the first two hypos and who now looked alarmed.

"Anything you can give him so that he starts making sense again?"

The medical attendant dutifully opened his mouth but was cut off by the white-haired Admiral Bennett, whose expression had become increasingly pinched over the last hour.

"Most certainly not. Even if Starfleet were to make a habit of torturing their own, he has not given us much useful information over the last hour and not for lack of trying. I believe we have ascertained what we came here for, namely that the threat to the Federation has been neutralized, and by none other than James T. Kirk I may add. At this point we can afford to wait for Enterprise and her sensor logs. There will be no further questioning until he has been cleared for duty by Starfleet medical. Take him to the academy hospital. God knows we have enough on our hands in the meantime."

The other board members were quick to voice their assent, and soon enough the only two people not on board with the current development were Admiral Marcus, who chose to remain silent, and Jim, who had stopped repeating his name, rank and serial number as soon as the questions had stopped but who, by now, was firmly convinced that he was back to being interrogated by renegade Romulans. And so, when he was briefly left to his own devices by the medical attendant, who, on the way to the hospital needed to make a small detour to the head, he escaped.

When asked later about it, Jim Kirk had no memory about how exactly he managed to turn up in Riverside, Iowa. They were able to reconstruct his next steps as follows: he had taken off his yellow command shirt with his communicator still attached to it and discarded both in the bushes close to the building that housed the interrogation room. He had left the academy grounds and taken a shuttle transport to the transportation hub, then used a public transporter to get tot the Riverside transportation site in Iowa. He must have managed to secure some kind of transportation to the farmhouse that was still in Winona Kirk's name because some credits were found to have disappeared from his private account to that purpose.

What he did remember is that he gradually became lucid again as he fished the spare key out of its flower pot, unlocked the door and stumbled inside. By then, the effects of the stimulants had begun to wear off, and while that did afford him some clarity of the mind it also meant that the strength to walk or, indeed, move left him in equal measure.

What he then realized as he stumbled along the hallway and into the kitchen was that the house, being vacant, had been taken off the power grid. Water was running but the replicators and, indeed, any form of communication, were offline. But there was little time to worry, he was feeling tired in a bone-deep way. With his last strength, he managed to grab a blanket and drag it and himself onto the sofa in the living room, where he promptly passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

"Jim, answer me, goddammit!"

Leonard McCoy was feeling increasingly frustrated as each attempt to contact Jim Kirk went unanswered. That could mean many things, none of them particularly good. If Jim had been admitted to a hospital, his communicator would have been switched off. It had been more than 12 hours since Jim's tense last message, informing Leonard that he was expected to be cross-examined by a panel of Admirals as to whether the threat to Starfleet in general and Earth in particular had truly been neutralized. Since then, nothing but radio silence, and Leonard was starting to be worried. 

"Computer, please patch me through to Lieutenant Commander Spock, current location San Francisco, Earth."

"Attempting to route communication signal, please stand by."

Leonard McCoy did not particularly want to talk to the Vulcan. For once, Spock had just recently lost most of his father's species as well as his mother. Compounded with the Vulcan's insistence on not admitting any feelings, Leonard could not even begin to imagine what Spock was going through. On top of that, Leonard had to admit to himself that he did not particularly like the Vulcan personally. But he had exhausted all other avenues of getting in touch with Jim, and this was what was left to him.

Still, Leonard was surprised when his call was actually answered.

"Dr. McCoy. How may I be of assistance."

Maybe Leonard was imagining things but the voice did sound strained. That and the urgency of the situation made him choose his words carefully. 

"Commander Spock. Let me apologize beforehand for involving you in this. I find myself unable to contact Jim Kirk. For the past hours my calls have been patched through to Jim's personal communicator but left unanswered. I wanted to make sure that his injuries were treated at some point. Since you two were debriefed almost at the same time, I believe, so you know where Jim is?"

There was a long and uncharacteristic silence, but Spock finally answered.

"I have not seen James Kirk since before the debriefing. What was the nature of his injuries?"

"Considerable bruising to the trachea, possibly broken ribs and lacerations to his lower back with high risk of infection."

Leonard forced himself to remain dispassionate, knowing fully well that this had the highest chance of ensuring Spock's cooperation but it was difficult. After an even longer silence, Spock's voice sounded resigned.

"What is it that you require me to do?"

Leonard closed his eyes briefly.

"His communicator is on. Please locate Jim and make sure he is all right."

"I will endeavour to do so, doctor."

"And for that you get an illogical thank you together with the request to keep me updated."

"Indeed."

And with that, the connection ended, and Leonard McCoy felt himself relax ever so slightly.

****

Spock looked back to his meditation mat from which McCoy's call had roused him. He had been unable to meditate properly for days now, but the failure was his alone. After a debriefing that had lasted for hours, Starfleet had given him a two-week leave of absence. Spock had gone to his small apartment in San Francisco and, since then, had been at a complete loss what to do with himself. 

Whenever he closed his eyes, whether to sleep or meditate, he saw death and desctruction, and it ate at his mental sields and left him increasingly agitated. There was noone to share this with, not Nyota, who would take another week to arrive onboard the crippled Enterprise, and not... his mother. Never again his mother. He refused to dwell on this thought.

"Computer, locate Cadet James T. Kirk, location Starfleet Academy or Starfleet Headquarters."

"Cadet James T. Kirk is outside Acher's Hall."

That was where the debriefing had taken place 14.6 hours ago. Why would Kirk still be there? Verification was clearly required. Spock put on his jacket.

****

When Jim woke up it was from waves of nausea. He was at the same time feeling unbearably hot and freezing cold. When he tried to get up, his calf muscles locked in a cramp and he had to grit his teeth to keep from screaming. He rolled onto his side and tried to heave himself into a sitting position, but his arms felt unbearably weak. The cramp subsided at some point but then he started shivering uncontrollably. At least he felt reasonably lucid. He had to get to the bathroom if he did not want to vomit all over the sofa. His legs hurt, his back hurt, his hand hurt, his throat hurt. Not the worst shape he had ever been in, though. Also not the weakest. And he had always been the one to do what needed to be done. Interrupted by bouts of uncontrolled shaking, he pushed himself onto the floor and started his painful crawl towards the bathroom.

****

"I have located James Kirk's communicator on his uniform shirt that was discarded in front of Archer's hall."

Leonard swore under his breath.

"Has he been admitted to any Starfleet facility?"

"None, doctor, I have already checked."

"Spock, listen, something has happened and it does not look good. I don't know what the situation is at headquarters but we'll have to report Jim missing."

"What is it that you are hoping to achieve?"

Leonard was too exhausted, both mentally and physically, to rise to the bait.

"Find Jim, of course. This is unlike him, I'm worried. His injuries are manageable but could prove dangerous if left untreated."

"Starfleet is unlikely to be able to devote any resources to a manhunt at this point, doctor. I will make further attempts to locate James Kirk and keep you updated. You can help by providing a possible list of locations. Good-bye."

And Leonard was left to stare at his communicator with a sense of surprise and wonder.


	3. Chapter 3

His purpose kept his thoughts focused, Spock found, as he hacked into Starfleet's databases without a shred of remorse. He found the intellectual exercise stimulating and could not bring himself to fear any kind of consequences, should his actions be discovered, which was unlikely in the overall state of chaos.

What he found, however, gave reason for concern. Someone had logged the administration of two stimulants in short succession, the debriefing had been logged as suspended, not concluded. Afterwards, nothing. Kirk's dorm room had not been accessed. Nowadays, however, noone could vanish without a trace. So Spock just had to find the right place to look.

It took almost two hours, then Spock had broken all encryptions, accessed all files and accounts and finally found it. James Kirk had made a withdrawal from his personal bank account to pay for a taxi ride from Riverside transportation hub in Iowa to a private residence in the outskirts that property records showed to be in possession of one Winona Kirk.

It was only logical to see his task through to the end, Spock told himself, as he packed his carry-all with a few things he might need for himself and a medkit with everything from a list provided by Leonard McCoy. He then sent a brief message to McCoy and left his apartment in the direction of San Francisco transportation hub.

****

Jim was alternating between periods of clarity of the mind and fever dreams that had him back on Tarsus V, with his stepfather, in Iowa or in the belly of a Romulan mining ship with Romulan hands at his throat and no hope for survival. He had not left the bathroom since he had painstakingly made his way there.

In his lucid moments he knew that stimulant withdrawal made his hands shake and his head ache, and that the lacerations the Hemrauggi had inflicted on him on Delta Vega had become infected as evidenced by the fever he was running. In truth, there was little he could do about either in his current state, which left his body weak enough that he was starting to get worried. When he could he tried to drink as much water as possible from the faucet to flush the residual stimulants out of his system and keep hydrated. So far, he had inevitably vomited much of it back up shortly afterwards. At this point he could only hope that the effects of stimulant withdrawal would pass before the fever and his injuries left him completely incapacitated.

In his fever hallucinations he was dying, on Tarsus V, at the hands of his stepfather, on the drilling rig, on Nero's ship. Then he screamed so much that his aching throat managed to propel him into wakefulness but it seemed to Jim that these periods grew shorter rather than longer. Still, every time he laboriously pushed himself into an upright position, drank some water, then sank back onto the floor again. Too stubborn to die, his mom had told him at some point. Jim hoped it was true.

****

Spock rented a hovercar at Riverside transportation hub and programmed the route to the Kirk residence. During the ride he had to quench the urge to re-examine the chain of reasoning that had taken him this far. A small, treacherous voice in the back of his mind continued to insist that logic had not managed to stall the destruction of Vulcan. In the end, the universe had always been free to impose its own chaos onto every order that any species could ever hope to achieve. And yet, giving up seemed no more logical than persisting. He would persist. 

He maneouvered the hovercar past sparsely scattered family dwellings, more and more ancient wooden houses rather than modern buildings. This was not a rich neighborhood and his voyage felt like a trip into the past. Finally, he took the hovercar down a dust road with only one old house at its end. Spock had not had any preconceived ideas about the shape and size of the house that James Kirk had undoubtedly grown up in, but he had to quell a small amount of surprise at the state of it. The house looked almost derelict, certainly in need of repair. 

Spock slowed the hovercar to a halt in front of the house, then got off. With his luggage in his hand, he took the two steps leading up to the porch in one long stride. He reached for the doorknob, but the door swung open at his touch. Spock hesitated before entering the Kirk abode. He had to try and announce his presence at least. 

"Is this building occupied? Cap... Cadet Kirk, this is Lieutenant Commander Spock!"

No answer came forward. Spock crossed the threshold and entered the building. He crossed the entry and went past a stairway leading to the upper level of the house into the kitchen that blended seamlessly into the living room. He took a long look around. The kitchen was a strange blend of old and new, with worn-down cabinets on the walls and a stove as well as a replicator. Both seemed to be offline. The chairs around the dining table were mismatched and none of them looked as if it could carry Spock's weight. Spock slowly made his way around the room. A thick layer of dust lay on a bookshelf. The musty smell made it seem as if noone had lived there in months but the blankets on the sofa seemed to indicate otherwise.

"Kirk?"

An almost inaudible groan made Spock turn his head towards its source. Passing below an archway, he saw a bedroom through the open door to the left and another door straight ahead, which was slightly ajar. Spock opened it with a slight push.

A bathroom. And on its floor lay James T. Kirk.


	4. Chapter 4

Spock did not need an advanced degree in medicine to ascertain that James Kirk was in a bad shape but the output given by the medical tricorder was nonetheless impressively long. Spock recognized the entry 'Systemic Inflammatory Response Syndrome' as the beginning stage of a sepsis, and this together with the broken ribs and the dangerously high body temperature made him decide to comm doctor McCoy prior to attempting to alleviate Kirk's distress with the hypos at his disposal. 

The call did not take long to connect. "Doctor, I have located James Kirk. Please stand by to receive the output from the medical tricorder."

"Spock! Is he conscious?"

"Negative."

"Did you pack the hypospray cartridges that I put on the list?"

"Affirmative." Spock resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

During the silence that followed, Spock turned back towards the bathroom. James Kirk had not moved, he lay against the toilet, eyes closed, shivering. The acrid stench of vomit lingered in the small room. Not so many hours ago they had been on Nero's ship. Some more hours ago they had been in orbit around Vulcan. Spock could have computed the time down to the minute but he chose not to. It seemed pointless. Spock was angry. He fully recognized the emotion in himself and felt no need whatsoever to address it as a failure on his part. Of all the unnecessary things he had witnessed since his world had been destroyed and his life had been irrevocably altered, this was by no means the most senseless but it seemed thoughtlessly cruel. If this was not a good reason to be angry, then what was?

In any case, there were more pressing issues right now than his emotional state, and Spock waited patiently. Six minutes and fifty-three seconds passed before the comm sprang to life again with doctor McCoy's voice.

"Give him all the antibiotics on the list. Give him the painkiller."

Spock methodically loaded the cartridges into the hypospray and emptied them into Kirk's neck while McCoy continued to speak.

"He needs to see a doctor. His wounds need to be cleaned, he is dehydrated and needs more antibiotics. Two broken ribs and a broken metacarpal bone in his right hand... that requires an osteogenerator. Under normal circumstances I would now tell you to contact the closest hospital for a medical transport." McCoy paused, then continued. "But the amount and type of stimulants left in his system are going to be red flags. I'll be frank, Spock, this is the shape that Starfleet left him in and I'm worried. Noone knows what's happening at Starfleet right now and I'd like to keep him out of the system, preferably until Enterprise gets back to Earth."

The doctor fell silent again, for a longer period this time. Spock was unsure whether input from his side was required and, if so, in what form, so he simply asked "What do you propose, doctor McCoy?"

"If you would not mind staying there a while longer, I'll contact an old friend of mine about a house visit. In the meantime, see if you can get Jim to drink some water and keep an eye on his body temperature. If it gets too high, contact a hospital."

Spock found the proposition surprisingly logical. "Agreed, doctor."

"I'll see what I can do on my end, then."

***

Jim heard a voice calling his name from very far away and he tried to wake up, he really did, but he was bone-deep exhausted. His eyelids refused to open. He tried to move his head, but his neck felt like lead. Was he even safe? His breath sounded loud in his ears. Then something wet ran over his tongue. He swallowed reflexively. Water. He moaned softly. Something touched his lips and there was another trickle. He managed several sips, then exhaustion took over again and he lost consciousness.

***

Spock pursed his lips. James Kirk had drunk water from a carafe that Spock had found in one of the kitchen cabinets, but it had been a regrettably small amount. Spock felt an uncharacteristic sense of urgency replacing his anger, but truth was there was very little he could do for the human at the moment except wait for doctor McCoy to contact them again. James Kirk did not look particularly comfortable on the floor, but Spock did not dare move him, given the diagnosis of broken ribs. 

But that did not mean that there was nothing useful he could to to occupy his time, he realized. So Spock set the medical tricorder to continuous scan and programmed an alert, triggered by any changes in James Kirk's condition. Then he walked back towards the kitchen, fingers hovering above the communicator and pondering who to contact about reconnecting the house to the power grid. After that, a thorough cleaning would keep him busy, provided he could locate the necessary supplies. And beyond that, Spock adamantly refused to think about anything at all. 


	5. Chapter 5

Two hours and thirteen minutes had passed when Spock’s sensitive ears picked up the sound of a hovercar decelerating outside of the house. In the meantime, he had managed to clean most of the kitchen and the living room to acceptable standards, get the house reconnected to the power-grid, and coax more water into James Kirk on three more occasions. Kirk’s fever had not climbed further but also refused to go down, and he had not regained full consciousness throughout Spock’s ministrations.

Spock finished the task he was doing, which was to change the sheets of the bed in the bedroom downstairs, then left the room, threw a quick, worried glance at the unmoving form of James Kirk as he walked past the bathroom though the living room and kitchen towards the entrance. He opened the door to see a woman walking up the steps towards him porch, carrying what seemed to be a medkit by her side.

“Commander Spock?”

Spock simply nodded.

“I’m Doctor Caithleen Davies. Leonard called me. Let me see the patient first, then I’ll probably need your help in getting some additional equipment from the car.”

Spock nodded again, held the door open for her, then led her to the bathroom. “I thought it prudent not to move James Kirk in his current state.”

Dr. Davies nodded, while getting out her medical tricorder and a hypospray. Spock stood outside the bathroom to watch her examine James Kirk, who continued to lie silently on the floor. It occurred to Spock that he had never seen James Kirk so completely at rest before. It seemed very wrong.

Dr. Davies looked at the tricorder readings again and frowned.

“From what Leonard told me, he should avoid going to a hospital for the time being, but I’m not gonna lie to you, he is in pretty bad shape and it might very well be that I’ll have to initiate an emergency transfer at some point. For the moment I would like to ask you to retrieve the portable osteogenerator and a stasis sleeve from my hovercar.”

Spock quickly located the required equipment, and when he came back into the bathroom, Dr. Davies had already repositioned Jim Kirk, who now lay prone on his back. Judging from the empty hypospray vials by her side, she had also administered more medication. Spock deposited his load by her side and stepped back. James Kirk was in capable hands. But before he could contemplate what the consequences for his presence at Jim Kirk’s residence were, Dr. Davies looked up to him.

“I’ll have to get his ribs fixed before he can be moved and I can treat the lacerations on his back. I’ll also set up an infusion to get some electrolytes into him. If he remains stable and if I manage to clean the wounds on his back he’ll probably be able to recover here but someone needs to monitor his condition in regular intervals. What are your plans, can you stay here for a couple of days?”

Spock found it surprisingly easy to acquiesce.

***

When Jim Kirk drifted back into consciousness, it was agonizingly slow. For a long time he was convinced that he was back in his bed at Starfleet Academy but then he had a nagging feeling that this simply could not be true for reasons that eluded him in his present state. He vaguely realized that he was quite comfortable, wherever he was, and that reassured him on some fundamental level. But he also knew that something terrible had happened, and although he could not quite remember what that was the anxiety and pain that he associated with those memories finally propelled his mind into wakefulness.

He was lying on something soft, and blankets kept him warm. His body felt numb, and he had no feeling in his right hand at all. Coaxing his gummy eyelids apart to open his eyes was an effort, and he would have startled at the familiar sight of the downstairs bedroom at his family’s farmhouse in Riverside, Iowa, if he had actually had the energy to do so. 

Things being as they were, he felt exhausted and quite unable to move. A soft beep emanated from the vicinity of his forehead. But before he could muster the energy to even think about investigating the source of this disturbance, the door in his field of vision opened and Spock entered.

The memories came back with such a vengeance that his breath hitched. Nero. Vulcan destroyed. Pike seriously injured. Enterprise incapacitated. The hearing at Starfleet and then… only disjointed flashes of him arriving at the farmhouse and moving to the bathroom. That still did not explain the presence of Spock.

Jim opened his mouth.

“Spock? Explain?”

The dark eyes regarded him with equanimity.

“You were very ill. You had infected wounds on your back, broken ribs and a bruised trachea, among other things, and you suffered from stimulant withdrawal. Except for your right hand, your medical needs have been seen to by a friend of Dr. McCoy’s. When you are up to it we would like to learn more about the circumstances under which you were given a stimulant overdose, but for the moment I believe that the doctor’s recommendation is more rest.” 

And with that, Jim Kirk watched helplessly as Spock approached, hypospray in hand.

“Not sleepy!”

“This statement is clearly false.” 

Jim’s eyes closed even before he heard the hiss of the hypospray against his neck and he fell asleep almost instantaneously.


End file.
